


Let's Make This Next One Last

by EllisJay



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne is just tired, F/M, Jaime has a plan, Married Life, Sometimes plans get fucked up and you need a new one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28509909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllisJay/pseuds/EllisJay
Summary: When their New Years' plans are canceled, Jaime steps up to save the day and make his wife happy again.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 48
Kudos: 153
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange Stocking Stuffers 2020





	Let's Make This Next One Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sdwolfpup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/gifts).



> A huge, huge thank you to aliveanddrunkonsunlight who is not only an excellent set of eyes, but also a top-notch reassurer and a lovely, lovely person.
> 
> Another very huge thank you to brynnmck, who used her very soft words and endlessly soft heart to nudge me three steps back from my cliff of despair.
> 
> Title comes from Merry Christmas by Keith Harkin which I listened to approximately 1843 times over the course of Christmas (also the fault of sdwolfpup)
> 
> For sdwolfpup, who wanted snowy winter mornings, and some softies in an established relationship by the fire. I tried to give her all three because I love her very much. 2020 was an absolutely horrible year in a lot of ways, but one of the highlights of it was getting to know her over the last 8 months or so. She is an incomparable sounding board, a wonderful ego soother, my SID and ID Buddy, and undoubtedly one of my favorite people in the world. 
> 
> Happy 2021, buddy. Just like Brienne is with Jaime, you're stuck with me.

Brienne leaned her head against the windowpane, staring out at the swirling world of white that danced in their front yard. The winter storm blew in just in time to spare Christmas, but just in time to ruin their New Year plans. It was hard to look out at the swiftly falling snow, and not feel anything but dejected.

“Your dad made it back to his house with the kids,” Jaime spoke up from behind her. “Endrew apparently smelled the storm or something, and was able to stock everything pretty well. He said they’re drinking hot chocolate and about to tell stories around the fire. So that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

Brienne nodded, trying to release the tension in her shoulders and jaw before her husband could see them. “I don’t know,” she said with forced lightness. “If Uncle Endrew is the one telling the stories, we may have even more to worry about.”

Jaime huffed out a laugh as he slipped his arm around her waist, his palm finding purchase against her hip so he could press her back a little and rest his chin on her shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge when we undoubtedly come to it,” he told her. 

Brienne hummed a little, keeping her eyes trained on the near-blizzard outside. “At least we aren’t snowed in at the airport,” she mused.

“Close thing,” Jaime agreed. “Another hour and we would have been on our way. If we are going to be trapped somewhere, I’d much rather be here at home.” At her little huff, he pressed his nose into her neck a little. “You disagree?”

“I’d rather be on Bear Island like we planned,” she said, and gods even she could hear the petulance in her voice, something she was very unused to. “Or have our flight diverted and be forced to lock down in a hotel somewhere random.”

“That sounds more appealing to you than being here, with all the comforts we can ask for?”

Brienne sighed, forcing herself to turn in his loose embrace and look him in the eye. “I needed this trip, Jaime.  _ We  _ needed it. Don’t lie- you were looking forward to it as much as I was.”

His lips quirked in a rueful smile, his shoulder jerking in agreement. “I was,” he said. “But if I had a choice between being here with you, or scrambling to find a hotel in Moat Cailin or some other boring place, I’d much rather us be here.”

Brienne sighed, wishing she had the words to make him understand, or at least the words to make him understand without hurting him. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with her life, not at all. If anything, she still woke up most days slightly astonished at what her life had become in the best possible way. She knew how lucky she was to have all the things she had once thought were impossible- to have a husband she was still in love with, children who were healthy and perfect, a career she found rewarding. Brienne didn’t take any of that for granted. 

Lately, she had just felt...restless maybe. More like she was just going through the motions of life rather than really living it. She didn’t want to say that they were in a rut because that sounded like they held down opposite sides of the couch without conversation, and only had scheduled sex, missionary position only of course, on Saturday nights (which was definitely not the case). It was just somewhere in the never-ending loop of work and tantrums and figuring out what to have for dinner they had settled into a routine where nearly every day was the same, if not in the details then in the vibe. Some days they would collapse into bed, one pressing a hurried kiss to the other, before falling into an exhausted slumber without a word spoken. Once Jaime fell asleep with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and she had had to shake him awake in fear that he would impale his throat.

Brienne  _ knew _ that this was just the season of their life. Aeron was only three, and Mari was just three years older, and everyone had told them that their lives would be hectic for awhile. She had prepared for things to change, for their home to revolve around the children and their needs, but she hadn’t realized how much of herself it would feel like she was losing in the process. Her fortieth birthday was barreling down on her, and it just felt like time was slipping away and stripping more than just her youth away with it.

“I was just really looking forward to this weekend,” she told Jaime now. “We haven’t had a weekend to ourselves in so long.”

“Almost four years,” Jaime nodded, and his eyes were so understanding that she had to firm her jaw against the tightness in her throat. “Since you were pregnant with Aeron. And then before that it was when you were pregnant with Mari. Every other trip we’ve taken has been as a family.”

“Exactly,” Brienne sighed. “And don’t get me wrong, I have loved all of our trips with the kids, even that time we drove to Highgarden and spent a week in the RV, which was fucking insane.”

“It really was,” Jaime agreed. “What a pair of blissfully naive idiots we were, huh?”

“So naive,” Brienne laughed, remembering the way she had considered hiding at a rest stop just to escape the confines of that prison on wheels. “But parts of it were still fun, and we made some amazing memories. It’s just-”

“No, I know,” Jaime said, nodding even as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms soothingly. “As fun as our family trips are, it isn’t the same. We can’t just be us on them because we’re being Mom and Dad. I get it. I’m disappointed about this weekend too. I had big plans for us, you know.”

“What were they?”

“Sleeping in every day, eating the most decadent desserts we could find. Fucking you on every surface in our room.”

Brienne huffed out another laugh, feeling a little of the tension ease out of her body. “When Dacey and Benjen invited us up to celebrate the new year, I think they wanted to actually see us, Jaime.”

“We would have put in at least one appearance a day,” Jaime shrugged. “They would have understood.”

“Yeah, they probably would have.” She sighed again, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “Well. I guess there’s always next year, right?" She forced a smile as if she weren't so damn tired of that line of thought. Always next year, always one day, always eventually. "I’m going to go unpack, I think. When I get done we can watch a movie or something.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Jaime said, sliding his hands up over her arms to cup her biceps, massaging them gently. “How about you let me handle the unpacking, and you go up and take a hot bath? A long one with all the bubbles. When was the last time you were able to do that without a kid trying to turn themselves into a battering ram?”

“Our sweet and docile children? Shame on you.”

Jaime laughed and Brienne felt her heart lighten a little bit more. Her beautiful husband who always tried to find humor in any situation. “Yeah that definitely sounds like the children we have, absolutely. And now, since you’re obviously already delirious, go on. I’ll take care of our bags, and get a movie set up down here. You just go relax.”

“A bath does sound good,” Brienne mused. “I’ll try to be quick so I can give you a hand.”

“Why would you be quick?” Jaime asked, tugging her backwards to the stairs. “Take all the time you need. It isn’t like I’m going anywhere, possibly for a few days.”

“You make a strong argument.”

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. When you get back, we’ll figure out something to eat and then snuggle down with a movie. Now go.” He swatted her on the ass, and she rolled her eyes at him like she always did.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

She turned towards the stairs, carrying his reassuring smile and understanding eyes with her as she went, trying to focus on them rather than the heavy disappointment curled up in her chest. Their weekend was not shaping up like she had envisioned, but at the end of the day there was nothing that could be done about it. She could put on a smile and make the best of it, could shove aside her own feelings to keep the mood in the house light.

That was her job, after all. 

***

  
  


When Brienne descended the stairs again, just over an hour later, she had to admit that she felt much better. The hot water and the quiet had done wonders for her mood, and so had the small crying jag and pep talk she had given herself. Sometimes crying left her feeling drained and like a complete failure as a wife and mother, but these tears had felt cleansing, as if she were setting down a weight that she had been trying to carry for too long. She was determined to make the best of her time with her husband, even if that meant just heating up one of the casseroles in the freezer and watching some sappy movie.

Jaime was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her, and she felt her heart tighten in her chest for a moment just as it always did when she laid eyes on him. He was still so gorgeous, even after all these years they had passed together. His hair was more gray than golden, and his face was softer, more lined, but she still only saw Jaime. Every mark of time that he bore was simply a reminder of all they had been through together, all the days that he had been hers, and only made him more beautiful in her eyes.

Right now he looked like the golden retriever she so often compared him to, nearly quivering in his skin with excitement. He had changed into his sleep clothes, a pair of thin gray pants that hugged his hips and thighs in a way that always made her fingers twitch, and a long-sleeved black tee that went perfectly with his complexion. She nearly rolled her eyes before she caught herself. Only Jaime Lannister could make lounging around the house during a vicious snowstorm a testimony of how attractive he was.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately as she took the last few steps. 

“What makes you think I did anything?” he pouted back at her, reaching out to take her hand.

“The last twenty years of knowing you,” Brienne said dryly. “Including two years of dating, and fourteen years of marriage. I know what my husband looks like when he’s been up to something.”

“Brienne, we’re trapped in our house in a literal blizzard,” he protested, his tone at odds with his wide grin. 

“I don’t know why you think I’d believe that would stop you.”

Jaime laughed then, reaching out to wrap his arms around her waist, and lifted her off the floor, spinning her wildly for a moment. Startled, she clutched his shoulders, her laughter bubbling out of her to mix with his own. 

“What in the world’s gotten into you?” she shouted.

“I’m just happy,” he told her, setting her back on her feet, but still holding her close.

"Happy we’re stuck at home instead of on a plane doing hands stuff under the blanket?"

"Well now we can do hands stuff  _ over _ the blanket," he pointed out. "Come on, I want to show you what I've done." His fingers tangled with hers as he led them impatiently down the hall, his socked feet skittering just slightly on the wooden floors. Brienne was laughing as they went, and the grin he shot back at her was boyish and delighted. He had told her once that making her laugh was one of his top three favorite things to do, she remembered now. When she had asked what the other two were, he had told her they also involved getting her to make sounds against her will, and then he had spent the next two hours showing her exactly what he meant.

He came to a stop at the door of their den, turning to face her, still grinning. “Okay, eyes shut,” he said.

“Jaime, the last time you told me you had a surprise for me and had me shut my eyes, you had a stripper pole temporarily installed in our bedroom which led to you pulling a muscle in your back, and some very uncomfortable questions from Mari that in turn led to her thinking you were going to become a firefighter for the next six months.”

“Hey,” he protested, pouting up at her. “First of all, I would make an  _ amazing  _ fireman, and for all that you put your foot down about me pursuing that noble career, you weren’t exactly in a hurry to get rid of the costume, were you?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Secondly,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “That took a solid week of planning, and you’ve only given me an hour today. I’m good, but I’m not  _ that  _ good.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Brienne said playfully, exaggeratedly dragging her eyes down his body. “I’ve seen you put in some quite impressive work within an hour.”

“Why Brienne,” he drawled, sliding his finger into the top of her leggings to tug her towards him. “Are you trying to imply that your husband is a good lay?”

She dipped her head to kiss him lightly then flashed him a wicked smile. “I was actually talking about when you used to get up with Aeron at two am and let me sleep.”

If anything his pout returned tenfold. “Oh I see how it is,” he said. “We’ll see how much you prefer sleep to me this weekend.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Consider an implication of intent instead.” He grinned at her before releasing his grip on her pants. “Now please close your eyes.”

“Fine,” Brienne said, and though her tone was long-suffering, she dutifully closed her eyes. “They’re closed.”

“Are you ready?”

“If you’d stop making faces at me, we could already be doing whatever we are doing.”

“You  _ are _ peeking, I knew it!”

“I just know you, idiot,” Brienne said with a laugh. “Now open the door and show me what you’ve got up your sleeve, Jaime.”

“Okay, okay,” he huffed, still peering at her, looking for any sliver of blue behind her lashes. He reached out to take her hand, grinning at her even though she couldn’t see him before opening the door and stepping through. “Just follow me, and keep your eyes shut until I tell you to open them, okay?”

“Yes, dear.”

He ignored her sarcastic tone, too excited to poke back at the moment, and shut the door behind them, angling his body behind hers. “Open your eyes.”

Brienne slowly opened her eyes, and couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her. She stood frozen just inside the doorway, her mouth falling open slightly as she took in the sight before her.

Somehow in the hour that she had been upstairs, Jaime had completely transformed their den from the warm and cluttered family haven it usually was to the perfect winter hideaway. He had used the couch cushions to frame off a large section of the floor, and then lined it with nearly every pillow and blanket they had in the house, making a soft and cozy nest in front of the crackling fire. He had strung sheets up above it and on the sides, walling off the rest of the room, and had even taken some of their Christmas lights, looping them around and through his construction, casting a soft glow over the mound of blankets.

“Jaime,” she breathed out. “How in the world did you do all this?”

“By running mostly,” he said, slipping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder like he liked to do. “You were sad, Brienne. That’s always my best motivator to get things done, you know that.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then rubbed his nose against her, breathing her in, “I hate seeing you unhappy.”

Brienne had to swallow against the surge of emotion she felt rising within her. Twenty years, she thought. She had known this man for twenty years, over half her life, and he still managed to surprise her with how clearly he saw her, with the lengths he would go to in hopes of making her happy. 

“I was just disappointed,” she said. “I had built this weekend up in my head so much, you know?”

“I know,” he confirmed softly. “And I know it isn’t the same. There’s no room service and we’re still just sitting at home, but-”

“It’s so much better,” Brienne said, turning to look at him. “I mean it. This is perfect, Jaime. Thank you.”

He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to hers for a soft, lingering kiss. “We have popcorn and hot chocolate stuff on standby, and I have the spaghetti on warm for when you’re ready. Until then, what do you say we snuggle up with each other, split that bottle of wine, and get a little tipsy?”

“I’d say that sounds perfect.”

  
  


***

  
  


One bottle had turned into two, and a little tipsy had nudged closer to slightly drunk.

Brienne laid on her side, curled towards Jaime, and let her eyes roam over his face. He was lying on his side facing her, his hair mussed from the pile of pillows he had claimed, and his face relaxed and open. It felt like they were in their own little world with only the sounds of the fire and the whirlwind of snow outside their window to keep them company. She reached out across the scant space between them, running her finger in between Jaime’s brows and down his nose. “What are you smiling about?”

“I was remembering the first time we met,” he told her softly, as if he didn’t want to break their cocoon of silence anymore than she did. “How was that twenty years ago and you look exactly the same?”

“I do not,” Brienne snorted. “I show each and every one of those twenty years, Jaime, and you know it.” She was still fit, but her muscles were much softer and she knew that time had stamped her face as surely as it had his. “I don’t look anything like the girl you met.”

“Of course you do,” he disagreed, his own hand reaching out to comb through her hair and then settle on her jaw, his thumb sliding along the stubborn jut of her chin. “And you’re not allowed to argue with me since I’m the one that’s been looking at you all this time. I know what I see.”

“What do you see?”

“Everything,” he said simply. “I can still see the sometimes shy and sometimes fierce girl who had the audacity to call me out on all of my bullshit. The one who argued with me for thirty minutes about who had reserved the library table by the window.”

“It was me and you know it, Jaime!”

“It was not! My name was right there in the book, Brienne! Sunday, November 8th, 5 pm. Jaime Lannister.”

“We have been over this at least two hundred times! You  _ know _ time had gone back an hour, just admit it! That was my table!”

“I will admit to no such thing,” he said dismissively. “My watch said it was five, and so it was.”

“Yes, your  _ wrong _ watch.”

“Details.” He grinned at her when she spluttered indignantly. “ _ Anyway _ as I was saying. You argued with me for so long that you lost half of your supposedly allotted time anyway, and I graciously offered to let you finish your studying with me.”

“And you were the most annoying study partner who ever lived,” Brienne smiled now, remembering how infuriated she was by his presence. “You kept tapping your pen against the table, and bouncing your leg, and you would hum completely off-key. I still don’t know how I didn’t end up strangling you that first night.”

“You can admit that you thought I was hot, it’s okay, we’re married now.”

“I  _ may  _ have thought you were attractive when you weren’t being a pain in the ass,” Brienne allowed. “And I  _ may _ have had the thought that I could possibly kiss you to shut you up a time or two.”

“Really? Even that first night?” His eyes lit up and a bashful smile lit his face even more than the Christmas lights did. It always amused her just as it always touched her. Two decades and two children, and he still became so genuinely pleased when he discovered something she liked about him.

“Once or twice,” she told him, lifting his hand from her jaw to press a kiss against his palm. “At least once or twice that first night. I thought it approximately two thousand, five hundred, and forty-six times over the next three and a half years once you declared we were going to be best friends, and then basically never shut up for the rest of our time at college.”

“Well, I was right,” he grinned. “We  _ were  _ best friends. Just best friends with no sense of boundaries, and a smoking hot sexual tension.”

“I had boundaries, Jaime. You didn’t.”

“I had a few,” he told her. “After all, I didn’t climb into your bed naked and wake you up by eating you out.”

“Jaime!” she pushed at his chest, feeling her face turn scalding as he burst into laughter.

“How can you still blush after all these years? Especially after all the times I’ve woken you up just like that?”

“Gods, you don’t have to say it like that,” Brienne said, burying her face further into the pillow so she didn’t have to look at him smirk at her, his shoulders still bouncing with laughter.

“Oh I’m sorry, wife. How about ‘Of course I still had a few boundaries, Brienne, since I never joined you as you slept only to wake you up by performing oral sex on you.’ Is that better?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“I have two decades worth of memories to know that isn’t remotely true.” He smiled now, scooting closer to her so he could lay his head on her pillow. “Besides, you must have liked me a little. You kissed me first.”

“I did. I don’t know how I got the nerve to do it, after all that time of wanting to.”

“If you hadn’t, I would have kissed you. Eventually. Probably not that night, though. I had no idea that you were into me. You were a vault, Tarth.”

“Lannister,” she corrected.

“Lannister,” he agreed, and her heart clenched at the undercurrent of satisfaction she could hear in his voice, just as strong as it had been the day it had become true.

“I didn’t know that you were into me either,” Brienne said. “You weren’t a vault, though. Once some time passed, I could look back and see all the little things I brushed aside. You were always touching me, even when there wasn’t really a reason to. And you got unreasonably angry about those few dates I went on with Robb. And the one date I went on with Arthur.”

“Robb was a complete frat boy tool,” Jaime said indignantly. “You always came home smelling like his pubescent body spray, and you said you felt like he was stabbing you with his tongue when you kissed him that time.” She bit back a laugh as his face twisted into a snarl. “You deserved much better than Robb Stark. I hope he has a pot belly and has lost half his hair.”

“Jaime, we just saw him last week, and he looked exactly like he did back then, just with some age and maturity on him. And he’s one of your best friends! You coach Little League together!”

“That’s beside the point,” he glowered. “That’s Grown-Up Robb. I’m talking about College Douchebag Robb.”

“They’re the same person, Jaime. Literally.”

“And Arthur!” he exclaimed, completely ignoring her. “He was ten years older than you!”

“You’re  _ seven  _ years older than me, Jaime.”

“But he was  _ ten _ . Dirty old man.”

“We went on one date in which he was perfectly respectable, and again...he is a good friend of yours.”

“Why’d you date all my friends? I was right there, waiting to be dated.”

“Because I thought you were just my annoying best friend,” Brienne smiled. “Which you were. Besides, don’t pout. You’re definitely the best kisser of all of them.”

“Thank you, I always had a...wait. Wait. Are you telling me that not only did you kiss Robb Stark, but that you  _ also _ kissed Arthur Dayne?  _ Brienne _ .” 

She burst out laughing at his scandalized tone. “Yes, Jaime. Sixteen years ago, I once kissed Arthur Dayne at the door to our apartment at the end of our date. I’m so sorry for the shock this has caused you.”

“You  _ should  _ be! Perfectly respectable, my ass. Just wait until I see that guy again, kissing my wife.”

“I wasn’t your wife then, and I’m forced to point out that I wasn’t even your girlfriend either.”

“You were right after,” he told her, and now his eyes went dark, his smile sly. “In fact, if I’m remembering correctly, you kissed me that very next day.”

“Did I?” Brienne murmured, dropping her eyes to his lips as he inched closer. “I’m afraid I don’t remember the details.”

“Oh yes you do,” he countered, reaching out to rest his hand on her hip. “We were at the apartment, making dinner, and I was being a dick.”

“That could have been any night.”

“And I was giving you shit for going out with Arthur because it wasn’t like I could tell you that I was jealous, after all.”

“Would have saved me a lot of embarrassing pining and existential-crisising if you had.” She slid her arm across his hips then, palming his lower back to anchor herself to him.

“And we had another glorious fight, right there in the kitchen, and you called me a selfish asshole, and then you kissed me.”

“Well, you  _ were _ a selfish asshole,” Brienne pointed out, quite fairly if she said so herself.

“About you? Absolutely.” Shame had never been one of Jaime’s strong suits. “I wanted every bit of your attention, every speck of affection you had to spare. And there you were, going out with all my friends, sending me into spirals of despair, completely oblivious to my suffering.”

“I was suffering too,” Brienne said, and she could hear the hitch in her breathing as Jaime finally completed his slow migration and pressed his body against hers. “I was so mad at myself for wanting to kiss you all the time when you were the one guy I definitely couldn’t have. So I went out with Robb when he asked, and Arthur too that one time, but I always came home to you. I still do.”

“You do,” he agreed, his voice pitched low in a way her body recognized before her brain did, her belly tightening up as he stared at her with dark eyes. “And now you can kiss me whenever you want.”

She could, a fact that still made Brienne smug, so she angled her head forward and did.

Unlike their first kiss sixteen years ago, there was no anger driving it, no years of pent-up sexual frustration to turn it desperate and sloppy from the start. This was a familiar dance, one their lips and tongues and teeth knew all the steps to, a song they played out regularly. While she would never discount youthful exuberance and discovery, there was something to be said about the sort of familiarity and intimacy their mouths and bodies knew now. She knew that if she clenched her fingers in his hair to tug his head back just a little he would moan into her mouth, or that if she sucked his bottom lip with a hint of bite, he would growl and shift against her. Combining the two inevitably led to him pressing her against the closest surface, and kissing her until she was a naked, sweaty mess.

But for now, she simply stroked her hands down his side, hooking a thumb into the side of his pants as their mouths moved together. She was grateful that she still felt this way when he kissed her or when she kissed him, grateful for the flicker of heat that could be so easily stoked into so much more. It built now, steadily, until her hands were fisted in his tee shirt, tugging him closer, and one long leg was wrapped around his hip, his palm wide and firm against her ass, holding her to him as they rocked against each other.

She rolled them then, bracing her hands on his chest as she straddled him, and pulled away from his mouth to strip her shirt off as she looked down at him. She loved Jaime in all forms...the sleepy father who snuggled her and their children in bed on Sunday mornings, the quick and clever ad exec with a sharp smile and perfectly groomed hair, the grumpy husband who had complained through every second of their kitchen remodel but had gotten his hands dirty with her anyway. But she loved him best like this, hair mussed, eyes dark, and his mouth swollen from her own. The world and work and their children all got pieces of him, but this version of Jaime was just for her.

“Have I ever told you how glad I am that you don’t wear a bra?” Jaime asked as he lifted his hands to her breasts. His hands were still as broad as they’d always been, but now his palms were more calloused, his fingers more sure as they massaged and plucked at her in turns. The first time they had fucked, Jaime’s hands had been trembling slightly, from fear or nerves or urgency she still wasn’t sure. Now they were certain on her body, knowing exactly where to rub and where to stroke, when to press and when to pinch. Her back arched again, her hips rolling against his own, and they both let out moans at the contact.

Brienne slid back a little on her thighs as she trailed her hands down his chest and over his stomach. “It probably bodes well that after all these years, you still have the same reaction to me kissing you.” She could see the defined outline of his cock, his thin sleep pants doing nothing to disguise it, and shifted more on his leg so that his thigh was nestled in between her own. He offered her a dirty little smile in response, then gasped as she dragged one nail down the curve of his cock. His hips flexed against hers as she circled one finger against the head, and she couldn’t help but smirk as he twitched against her.

“Brienne,” Jaime growled.

“Hmm?”

“Do you know what I just realized?” he whispered.

“What’s that?” she asked, just as quietly, rubbing her palm over him, enjoying the heat and firmness of his body.

“We don’t have to be quiet.”

Her lips were barely starting to curve into a smile when he sat up, pulling her fully into his lap so that he could kiss her, swallowing her moan with his mouth as his arms banded around her hips. Their lips slid together, messy and urgent, their hands streaking over each other's bodies as they fumbled for clothes, laughing together as they stripped each other bare.

By the time Jaime had her on her back, his head buried between her thighs, Brienne felt like the world outside of their little blanket fort had disappeared, all worries and stresses and responsibilities washed away by the press of skin and the feeling of his teeth dragging across her clit. Even though his mouth had been one of the things to piss her off when they first met, Brienne had to admit that it was undoubtedly one of her husband’s finest attributes. 

“You remember the first time I got my mouth on you?” he asked, his breath washing over her where she was wet and slick from his tongue.

Brienne felt her face flush, the same way it always did when he talked to her in bed. It never failed to embarrass her, hearing about how much he wanted her, but it also never failed to turn her on even more, something Jaime delighted in. “Yes,” she breathed out, reaching down to slide her hand through his hair, tugging on it so that he groaned against her.

“Right there in our kitchen,” he reminded her, his tongue slowly dragging across her skin as he spoke. “We argued, and then you kissed me, and somehow we were on the floor, half-naked, with my mouth on your cunt.”

“Jaime,” she cried out as he slid a finger into her, his lips sucking her clit into his mouth, his teeth raking against the sensitive skin.

“Yes, that’s what you said then too,” he mused, sliding another finger into her with ease, crooking them to press against the spot he knew so well. “You kicked and screamed and pulled out some of my hair when you came. I nearly made a mess in my pants, Brienne.” He applied himself to his task with earnest, his lips and teeth and tongue working with his fingers to drive her closer and closer to the edge. She held onto his hair, grinding her hips against his face, so close to getting the release that she needed. Gods, she was right there, could feel it coiling low in her belly, just a little more and she would…

“What the fuck?” she growled, as her husband pulled away, moving his mouth to her inner thigh to press soft kisses against the skin, marking her, his fingers slowing down just enough to back her away from the orgasm she could feel lurking just out of reach. “Jaime!”

“Hmm?” 

She could hear the smugness even in his hum, and glared down at his head. “What are you doing?”

“Just remembering,” he said, and now his smile gleamed up at her from between her thighs, his chin resting just north of where she wanted his mouth. “I had forgotten I nearly came without you ever touching me. You were sprawled out on the kitchen floor, still wearing that dorky shirt about the horse with the goofy name, your hair all messy, and you looked so confused and happy and horny. Like you had no idea what had happened, or how we had ended up with my face covered in you.”

“ _ Jaime _ ,” she hissed, lifting her hips a little, hoping to encourage him to get back to what he was doing. 

“Do you know what it did to me?” he asked, his voice dropping even lower, his eyes steady on hers. “Knowing how strong you were, how in-control you always were? Do you know what it did to me to see you like that? To know that I was capable of making you feel that way?”

“Jaime, please.”

“You still make me feel that way,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cleft, dragging a whimper out of her throat. “Every single day, I still can’t believe how fucking lucky I am to have you. You’re so strong and sure and capable, Brinne. You handle every single thing that life throws at us, and you just know what to do while I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. You’re always in control of the chaos, and I can’t tell you how fucking hot I find that.” He flexed his fingers inside her, almost as if he were stroking her skin to reassure her. “And then when I get to be the one to break you apart, the one to make you let everything go?” He pressed another kiss against her, his eyes as dark as his voice, and she could feel the urgency rocket through her, feeling her control begin to fracture. “Maybe some things have changed in twenty years, but you’re still mine. That hasn’t changed. You were mine then, and you’re mine now, and you’ll be mine twenty years from now.”

Brienne cried out, her body arching up as he finally,  _ finally _ put his mouth back on her, his tongue and lips and fingers working her body furiously, driving her right back to the edge within moments. She held his head firmly now, refusing to let him stop, her hips lifting and rocking against his face, chasing the release he had been denying. 

“Come on, Brienne,” he demanded, his voice heavy against her. “Come for me, and let me fuck you. Please, please. I need you to.”

The unrestrained hunger and desperation in his voice, combined with the thick slide of his fingers and the quick, firm press of his tongue, were enough. Her body lifted, her hands clutching his hair, as the orgasm ripped through her, his name breaking through her lips in a strangled cry. It seemed to drag on and on, sending her hips surging against his face as little aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her.

Jaime was sliding up her body, slick with sweat and the scent of her, before she had fully come down. His mouth covered hers, his tongue sliding against her own, even as his hand grabbed and lifted her thigh, sliding into her body with one smooth, firm thrust of his hips. “Jaime,” she moaned, her head falling back, nearly dizzy with the feel of him inside her. 

“Brienne,” he growled back, dropping his mouth to her throat as his hips snapped against hers. “I love you, I love you so much. Always want you. You feel so good. Made for me, you know you were.” The arm around her thigh flexed, hitching her leg even higher on his back, changing the angle of his cock to something new and devastating. “It’s always so good with you, every time. I love you, love fucking you. Tell me you still want me, want me as much as you did back then.”

“More,” she bit out, feeling the first stirrings of her orgasm already building. “Gods Jaime, so much more.”

“Yes,” he growled, biting down on her neck, just hard enough to make her moan, his hips working against her own furiously. His breathing was coming fast, their bodies sliding against each other, slick with sweat and desperation. “Same for me. That’s the only thing that’s changed, Brienne. I love you more, want you more. Gods, please be close.” He shifted his body so that he could press against her clit with each thrust. “Please, please, I can’t.”

Brienne came moments before he did, wrapping her arms and legs around him hard enough to bruise as she cried out against his mouth. Jaime’s hips stuttered against her own for a moment before he was thrusting furiously into her tender body, dragging her orgasm out and up over her again as his own release swept over him before he collapsed onto her, boneless and spent.

They lay there in silence, both breathing heavily, and Brienne couldn’t help but smile up at the blanket stretched above them. She had never once mentioned to Jaime how she had been feeling lately, and yet somehow he had seen it anyway, and known. Sometimes being seen so clearly was terrifying, but more times than not, it was comforting, like pulling on an old sweater that had shaped itself to your form after so many years of wearing it.

Brienne carded her fingers through Jaime’s hair, gently smoothing the sweaty strands away from his forehead. “Well that kiss had the same result the first one did sixteen years ago,” she said quietly, and she must have somehow absorbed some of his smugness because even she could hear it laced into her voice.

Jaime’s laugh reverbated against her sternum, shaking both their bodies. “I think I lasted a little bit longer this time.”

“Maybe,” Brienne allowed, still smiling. “Perhaps a minute or so, at least.”

“Watch it,” he said, turning to nip at her breast. “And don’t get too comfortable, wife. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh I figure I have a good hour or so,” Brienne said playfully, swirling her fingers in between his shoulder blades. 

“Hey!” Jaime said, pouting up at her. “It may take me longer to recover than when I was twenty-seven…”

“Jaime, we never had sex when you were twenty-seven.”

“Well, that was on you, Brienne,” he said loftily. “It isn’t my fault you neglected to take advantage of me in my prime.”

Fondness swept through her, a horrible sort of affection that still overwhelmed her after all these years. “Oh I don’t know,” she whispered, stroking a hand along his jaw. “I happen to think I’ve had all your best years, Jaime Lannister.”

“Of course you have,” he answered, easing up so that he could kiss her, his mouth gentle on hers. “All my best years have been with you, Brienne.”

  
  


***

  
  


The house was silent when she woke up, the muffled sort of quiet that belonged to winter mornings, and told her they were buried in snow. She blinked against the thin, grey light streaming through the window, taking a moment to admire the tranquility outside their home, before snuggling further into the blankets. Jaime must have gotten up at some point to add more wood to the fire, she thought, smiling at the idea of her naked husband tending to the fire. It burned merrily now, the light from it casting a soft glow across the room.

“Happy New Year, wife,” Jaime said from beside her, and she turned to look at him. His hair was messy and rumpled, but his eyes were sharp and clear, his smile soft. He had obviously been awake for a while, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had laid there and watched her sleep like he’d done so many times in the past.

“Happy New Year to you,” she told him, smiling as he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “We’re snowed in.”

“We are,” he agreed. “Apparently, we missed quite the show last night.” His grin stretched further, his eyes dancing. “Of course, I preferred our show much more.”

“Gods, Jaime.”

He laughed then, reaching out to snuggle her close so that they laid there nose-to-nose. “I had a chance to do some thinking while you were sleeping,” he said after a long moment, his forehead pressed against hers.

“About what?”

“About all sorts of things. But mainly about us, and about how you cried in the bathtub yesterday.”

“You weren’t supposed to notice that,” she said, embarrassed.

“I always notice, Brienne. I know your face better than I know my own. And if my wife is upset, or sad, or hurting, I’m going to notice because it is my job to try and fix it. Or at least be there through it, even if I can’t fix it.”

“You did a pretty good job of it last night,” she agreed. “Several times.”

His smile went cocky for a moment, but then he brushed his nose against hers. “I know you haven’t been happy lately.”

“Jaime.”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “I’m not saying that you’re not happy with me, Brienne. Or with anything in specific. But you’ve been tired and overwhelmed, and just a little bit off, I think. And I get it. It’s so easy to get swept up in all the stuff we have to do, all the things that demand our attention, all the hundreds of things the kids need. We kinda forgot to make ourselves a priority.”

“I know it isn’t forever,” Brienne whispered back, letting her eyes fall shut. “I know that.”

“Definitely not forever,” he agreed. “And maybe I can’t make all of that go away because it’s just a fact of our lives right now, but I was thinking about what we could do.”

“What’d you come up with?”

“We aren’t the type to make resolutions,” Jaime told her, his eyes steady on her own. “That’s not us. We just do what needs to be done, and we go with the flow where we can, but in general, we don’t need a plan of attack to make changes. But did you know that New Year’s resolutions go back thousands of years? People made them as an affirmation of loyalty, and in hopes of staying in the gods’ favor. There’s something to be said about a tradition that has lasted that long, Brienne, and if there is one thing I can give you, it is definitely an affirmation of loyalty. So here is my very first New Year’s resolution, okay?”

“Okay,” she answered softly.

“I promise that this year and the years before us will not be like these last couple of years. I promise that I’ll make sure that we keep each other and our relationship a priority. I promise that when you get worn down by work and Mari’s sensitivity and Aeron’s stubbornness and the exhaustion of managing everything that goes on here, I will not only be aware enough to see it, but I’ll make you take a break, something that is just for you.” He pressed a kiss to her brow, then her nose. “I promise you that at least twice a year, I will force you out of this house for entire weekends. Once for a girls trip with your friends, and once for a solo trip so you can get a break from everyone and everything. And I promise that at least once a year, we’ll let the kids go with your dad or even with Robb Stark, despite the fact that he kissed you before I did, and we’ll go away on a trip, just for the two of us.”

“Jaime.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Brienne,” he said simply. “All of the good things in my life have come from having you in it. And I haven’t been taking care of you like I promised to do all those years ago. I haven’t been taking care of us. I may never make another New Year’s resolution in my life, but I promise you, I’ll keep this one. I’ll make this one last.”

Brienne let out a strangled little laugh, for once not caring that her face was red and splotchy, or that it was always more of a mess when she cried. Instead she held her husband’s face close, kissing him fiercely. “Thank you,” she said when she finally pulled away. “You know that I love you, right? The way I’ve been feeling lately...it doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you, Jaime.”

“I know,” he told her, stroking his hand up her back. “I’ve never doubted how much you love me, Brienne. Not once in twenty years.”

“Good. Because that’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all, Jaime. It never will.”

“I know,” he laughed. “It’s like I told you all those years ago, Brienne...you’re stuck with me now.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to endure it,” she said solemnly then laughed as he squeezed her ribs.

“You know what else you’ll have to endure?”

“What’s that?”

“Being stuck with just me for at least four more days,” he said gravely, though his lips twitched and his eyes sparkled. “The news said there’s no way there will be any travel til at least then.”

“Oh no,” Brienne grinned. “How horrible for me, Jaime. Whatever will we do all by ourselves for four more days?”

“You just relax, wife,” Jaime told her, rolling her onto her back, his mouth cruising from her face, down her neck. “And let me get to work on my resolution like a good husband.”

Brienne laughed, and the sound of it echoing in the quiet room felt like an affirmation, like a reclaiming of herself. “Well. If you insist.”

It turned out that he did. Several times. 

  
  
  



End file.
